I Dare You Darlin', Just You Wait and See
by hopelessromantic0707
Summary: Her first try at the whole kicker thing ends with Finn cursing and waving his fingers around, making sure nothing's broken. Possible spoilers for Super Bowl episode.


Author's Note: This was inspired by the spoiler picture currently floating around the interwebs. I was very careful not to read any other stories relating to this picture prior to writing this. Any and all resemblence is coincidental. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Still don't own _Glee_.

* * *

Fuck his life.

Well, fuck all their lives.

This is the first time in McKinley history that the football team has made it to States; hell, they're usually lucky if they have a semi-decent record at the end of the season (the closest they came with Tanaka was 5-5, which pretty much blows.)

They were all pumped beyond belief for exactly a week.

Then yesterday happened.

Dominic, the sophmore kicker, got his driver's license and decided to go out and test his skills. Which are non-existent. Dude crashed into a fence or some shit.

Long story short, he's in traction and the team's out a kicker.

So, he'll repeat, fuck their lives.

* * *

His cell phone hits the Berry's front door with a loud _thwack_. Kurt has no sense of brohood. He'd practically begged the guy to guest-play (and Noah Puckerman does not beg), going into detail about the ways he'd come up with to put Karofsky out of commission (he was useless on the field anyway; the second-stringer could handle it).

Apparently, Kurt has a 'debate that evening'. Really? He's happy that the dude is fitting in at Dalton and everything (making captain is awesome, even if debate's not technically a sport), but this is important. Like life or death. And he was officially out of options. Matt was in Mexico for some Spanish immersion thing; Lauren told him that no amount of candy or making out would get her to play such a stupid sport (he'd seriously considered slugging her after that comment. Ragging on glee was ok, maybe; but football? That shit didn't fly). He and Sam tried to convince Finn as a last-ditch effort, but that was a bust. Being the kicker, as much as he hated to admit it, involved some amout of grace. Finn was a lot of things, but graceful definitely wasn't one of them.

"Noah, are you alright?" He dimly registers Rachel's question and can tell she's touching his arm, but he doesn't respond. "You've been staring at the door for ten minutes. And you dropped this."

She walks back toward her open front door, picks up his forgotten phone, and places it, gently, in his hand. Still, he says nothing. What is there to say?

"Oh, my God! Are you having a seizure? Should I call 911? I should call 911." When she makes a move to go back inside, he decides he needs to say something to calm her crazy ass. Where does her brain come up with this shit?

"Not worth it," he mutters. "Unless the dispatcher can double as a kicker, won't help."

She turns around slowly, the Rachel Berry death glare firmly in place, and slaps him across the face.

"Seriously, Rach? What the fuck was that?" He hasn't been slapped in a _really _long time. "Way to kick a guy when he's down."

"I thought you were dying on my front porch. I wouldn't know what to do if you died; I mean, we're not dating or anything, but you're my only friend at the moment, so I..." she trails off. After taking a second to think, she continues, "And you weren't dying at all, just having a meltdown about football!" She punches him in the shoulder to emphasize her point.

"You have a lot of rage, you know that? You should think about classes or something."

She laughs, her face softening. "I wouldn't need them nearly as much if I wasn't friends with you. I take it the revisions to your _Jane Eyre _paper aren't happening this afternoon, then?"

"Some chick falling in love with her boss and dealing with his psycho ex-wife living in the attic can wait, Standish. This is some serious shit!" He's waving his arms around and he's sure he looks mental. Doesn't matter; she has to understand.

"I'm fully aware of the gravity of the team's situation right now, Noah." She smiles sadly. "But your grades are just as important. I suppose Jane can wait until this whole thing is resolved, though, seeing as it's not due for three weeks."

He hugs her quickly, because he can't think of another way to say 'thank you' (well, he can, but they're not together, so friendly hug it is). After he pulls away, she studies him for a minute.

"I've told you, repeatedly, to stop using that ridiculous nickname. Are you ever going to listen?"

"When it stops describing you. Which will be around the time hell freezes over."

"In case you haven't noticed, I am not even close to being popular," she states, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well...no. But she's sort of uptight and...perfect, like you." Shit, why did he have to use _that_ word?

He starts to explain, but it must've gone over her head, because the next thing out of her mouth is an excited, "I don't why this is only occurring to me now, but you are the living embodiment of Bender!"

The smile that lights up her face is, like, ridiculous. He finds himself returning it, even though he's still in a foul mood. "So, you wanna grab something to eat? I'm starving."

"Sure," she says, grabbing her coat and locking the door that's been open for the past fifteen minutes.

* * *

They share an order of fries (more like three) and talk about the latest episode of _Castle_ (Stana Katic is hot and it's actually pretty funny).

Next thing he knows, she's pushing her chair back so fast it falls over and running for the door of the diner.

The words 'ballet', 'late,' and 'so sorry' fly in his direction.

He only hears the first, though.

Rachel Berry may be the answer to his prayers.

* * *

"Noah. I cannot play football. I just can't."

"It's not like you'd actually have to tackle people, Rach. Those guys'd break you in half. You just have to stand in one spot and kick the ball. It's a piece of cake," he says into the phone.

"The promise of bodily harm is so appealing."

"You'll be fine. Anyone lays a finger on you, I'll kill 'em." He's completely serious. Rachel's his girl (he's being platonic, shut up; Finn's his boy, Rachel's his girl, end of story), plus she's tiny. Anyone who hurt her would be a total fucker.

There's silence. Shit, she hung up. But, wait, she's saying something, so she just takes forever to work shit out.

"What makes you think ballet is a viable qualification for being a kicker?"

"Your legs are super strong and bendy from all those arabesques and...whatever else you do. And before you ask, yes, I know that word. I'm somewhat literate. Plus, overheard your breakup with Jesse last year."

"Ok, ignoring that last piece of information, ballet does not make me a Rockette, Noah." This is said slowly, like he really needs to grasp this concept.

"I get that, but you're our best shot. You can't leave us hanging. You're really pretty- have I ever mentioned that?" She laughs so hard she snorts; he waits a couple seconds before adding, "Please?"

She sighs. "What time is practice tomorrow?"

* * *

Her first try at the whole kicker thing ends with Finn cursing and waving his fingers around, making sure nothing's broken. She's on the verge of bursting into tears (that scene in _The Sound of Music _where the little girl drops the tomato? Yeah, that's exacly how she looks.

Leaning down to where the other boy is sitting, Puck whispers, "Man up and smile, dude. She's gonna think she killed you or something and never touch the damn football again."

Hudson may be dumb but he can see that this is true. He does as he's told, Rachel breaking in occasionally with teary 'Are you sure?-s', and everything's cool.

The next couple (dozen) don't involve anyone getting injured, so that's awesome, but she keeps hitting the post.

* * *

After about an hour, the rest of the team decides they've had enough and leaves. Rachel's getting ready to bawl again. Shit.

"Forget those assholes. You're thinking too much. Just relax," he suggests once they're alone on the field.

"And how am I supposed to do that? This is just practice and I feel like I'm having a heart attack," she says, swiping at the tears on her face. During the game, I may have a stroke."

It takes a second to get his laughter in check- never, ever laugh at a crying girl. When he can talk like a normal person again, he shrugs. "I dunno...sing?

The skeptical grimace she shoots at him says a million things. Demonstration always gets him farther, anyway.

"Can't you see that it's just rainin'? There ain't no need to go outside..."

"I love that song," she says quietly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

* * *

If there was anyone walking the grounds of McKinley High that night, the sight that met them would've been quite interesting.

Noah Puckerman and Rachel Berry standing on a football field, no floodlights on, practicing field goals and extra points, singing 'Banana Pancakes' at the top of their lungs.

* * *

It's Saturday night. States. End of the third quarter, and they've just scored a touchdown. (It's been a defense-heavy game.) Rachel's moment to shine. And Rachel is...hyperventilating. Awesome.

He signals for Finn to call a time-out, running off the field to stand in front of her.

"You gotta breathe, Standish." The uniform is huge on her (he'd picked the number) and all the pads are probably doing more harm than good. Her hair's in braids and she has that ridiculous black crap under her eyes, even though it's nine at night and the sun set two hours ago. But it's cute, so whatever.

"Don't...call...me...that." She's, like, gasping.

"Seriously, Rach." His hands come to rest on her shoulders, brown eyes searching her face to make sure she gets it.

* * *

She gets her breathing under control (sort of) after a few seconds and he gives her a sideways hug as they leave the sidelines.

"You got this." She hears it, but he's already back in his position by the time she spins around.

Saying a prayer, she sings '...make you banana pancakes, pretend like it's the weekend now...' under her breath before kicking the ball and squeezing her eyes shut.

She does not want to see how this ends.

In the next second, her feet are off the ground, her helmet's in the grass and she's in Noah's arms (kind of awkward, given that they're both wearing full sets of protective equipment).

"That was perfect," she hears against her hair before he kisses her on the cheek and sets her down.

* * *

They lose the game by a touchdown, but, honestly, it doesn't matter.

Yeah, he's disappointed. But Rachel Berry _played football _and he was there to witness it.

That was 'once in a lifetime' shit right there.


End file.
